


When at a Crossroads

by Innwich



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Breaking Up & Making Up, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Priest Castiel, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 21:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3543950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Innwich/pseuds/Innwich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel was a preacher of a big church, and he had a secret that didn’t want to be a secret anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When at a Crossroads

A fan whirred lazily on the ceiling above Castiel.

Dean was lying next to him in the bed, breathing through his nose. His lips were bitten red and his hair was stiff with sweat. It was a good look on him.

If Heaven was real, this was what it should be like.

“Sam tried to set me up with one of his friends again,” Dean said. “He told me I had to settle down.”

“You always tell him you don’t want to go. I don’t see what the problem is.”

Dean sighed. “What are we doing, Cas?”

“What do you mean?”

“This. Sneaking around like a couple of teenagers,” Dean said. He plucked at the stained covers. “I don’t think I’ve been in such a sleazy motel since high school.”

“My neighbors would notice if you kept coming to my apartment,” Castiel said. “I though you agreed this was for the best.”

“That was before I knew you wanted to hide it for this long,” Dean said.

They had a routine.

Every Monday, Castiel drove up to motels, took the key from disinterested receptionist at the front desk, and waited for Dean to arrive. Sometimes Dean arrived first and was the one to wait for him. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that they were together and shared a few stolen hours of solitude, where Castiel didn’t have to think about his sermons or the church outings that he should be preparing.

If they had time, they would get a bite from a small diner tucked at the back of the motel. Dean would talk about the cars he was walking on and wolf down burgers and fries and slices of pies, while Castiel would drink coffee and feel the warm glow of contentment nestled in his chest.

Castiel was comfortable with the routine, but Dean wanted more. It was an old argument.

“You know I couldn’t do it, Dean. I’d lose my parishioners at the church,” Castiel said.

“Can’t let people know their superstar pastor is gay,” Dean said.

“They’re conservative. The children’s homes won’t survive without their donations.”

“That’s what you get for making deals with the devil,” Dean said.

“They’re hardly the devil,” Castiel said. “They’re just people looking to believe in something.”

“You mean they’re a bunch of homophobes,” Dean said.

“It’s not that simple.”

“No, I get it. You need their money.” Dean ran his hand through his hair, getting restless. “And your church needs its hot-shot preacher.”

“How can you think that?” Castiel said, and he couldn’t keep the hurt out of his voice.

“I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“Nothing is more important than you, Dean,” Castiel said.

But Dean still had that hard set to his jaw, the one that kept his jaws locked up and Castiel didn’t have the key to unlock it. “I have a hard time believing that.”

“I’m helping people,” Castiel said.

Dean sighed. It was a tired sound, having been dragged through the mud and back. “You said you wanted to start a church to help people. You said you wanted to keep this thing on the down low, I got it. But it’s been years since you got your church and your children’s homes, Cas. Why are we still doing this?”

“I’m doing this for you, Dean. I’m doing it because of you,” Castiel said. “So children can get the help they need, like you and Sam did.”

“I thought you told the church you were doing it for God.”

“I’m doing it for God too,” Castiel said.

Dean laughed shortly. “You’re a shitty liar, Cas.”

Castiel didn’t like to think he was a liar. He merely kept some details of his life sequestered away from the public’s eye. He did it for the church. He did it for the children’s homes. It was for a good cause.

Wasn’t it?

“I used to think I would never have to sleep in another crappy motel again after I got out of high school,” Dean said. “Will we ever stop meeting like this?”

Castiel lifted his gaze to the spinning fan. It was like their argument: Going in circles. “I need to keep the children’s homes running, Dean.”

After a long pause, the bed creaked. Dean was getting out of bed and pulling on his clothes. “Well, I’m happy for you. You have your church and your good intentions. We want different things in life, and I can’t go down that road with you.”

Castiel frowned. Dean was going off-script, and his voice had gone rougher than usual. He didn’t like how this was going.

“Something has to give,” Dean said. “I won’t ask you to give the church up. But I’m too old to keep fucking around in motel rooms.”

“I don’t understand.” Castiel felt slow; he was left fumbling in the dark while Dean had arrived at a conclusion that Castiel didn’t want to hear. His clothes were scattered around the room, and he was naked under the sheets. He would need a shower before he could appear in public without raising a few brows.

“You don’t need me to spell it put for you,” Dean said, picking up his car key.

Castiel slid out of bed and grabbed Dean’s hand. He was never that mindful of his own nakedness.

Dean turned back to face him, and his eyes were red-rimmed. There were wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. They hadn’t been there when Castiel had been preaching in the slums and Dean a mechanic looking for a job in the wrong side of town.

Where had the time gone?

“You gotta let me go, Cas.”

He couldn’t let go. Dean was warm. He was warmer than the sun, and Castiel would catch on fire if he flew too close. He couldn’t let go, because if he did he would lose Dean forever. Castiel said, “I love you.”

“I know.” Dean said. He slipped his hand out of Castiel’s grip and left.

\- - -

The church was buzzing with people. Castiel went to greet his parishioners at the entrance, but he couldn’t make a smile stay on his face for more than a few seconds, and he stopped trying after Hannah joined him at the door.

“You look tired,” Hannah said.

“I’m fine, thank you, Hannah,” Castiel said.

Hannah pursed her lips, but didn’t pursue the matter further. She went back to the door of the church, getting the parishioners settled into the pews.

Castiel hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since the night with Dean.

Castiel fished out his paper and read over the sermon again. He should’ve prepared it three days ago, but he’d only finished writing it last night. His thoughts had kept wandering and his gaze drifting to his cellphone where it had stayed silent on his desk.

Castiel smoothed out his piece of notepaper, and read out the sermon under his breath.

“It’s time,” Hannah said.

“Yes, it is,” Castiel said. He got onto the stage and stood behind the pulpit.

The most loyal members of Church were sitting in the front of the church. Hester was sitting at the front with Bartholomew, both dressed in their pressed suits. Inias, on the other hand, was nodding off next to them; he must’ve had late nights again.

Castiel feared he wasn’t faring any better than Inias.

“Hello,” Castiel said into the microphone. His voice echoed around the church.

The murmurs and shuffling from the pews faded.

Castiel stood tall over them on the stage.

He should greet his parishioners and thank them for coming this early Sunday morning. He knew the routine by heart; he’d lived it and breathed it for years. Castiel looked down into the pews, and his heart missed a skip.

At the very back of the church, Dean was huddled down in his army jacket. He was sitting next to a few new parishioners that Castiel hadn’t seen before. He was sitting far enough that Castiel wouldn’t see him if the stage weren’t so high.

Dean never went to church.

Dean wasn’t a religious man. He preferred to sleep in after a week of work at the garage. Castiel had given up on getting Dean to come a few years ago. It hadn’t mattered that Dean hadn’t had faith because Castiel had loved him all the same.

But Dean was also a sentimental man. He’d worn his father’s coat and driven his father’s years after the man’s death, the kind of man to come and say goodbye.

Perhaps it wasn’t Dean who should say goodbye. It was Castiel.

So Castiel did what he should have done a few years ago.

“I’m resigning from the church,” Castiel said.

The church ruptured into confused mumblings. People were turning to their friends and families.

Castiel got down from the stage. He felt like he’d tumbled off a cliff, his heart was thundering in his ears and his stomach was feeling like it’d dropped through the bottom of his abdomen. He took a deep breath, and, to his surprise, found that he could breathe easy.

The members of the board of directors were waiting for him by the stage.

“What is going on, Castiel?” Hannah said. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I’m leaving the church,” Castiel said.

“We can’t do this without you,” Hannah said.

“You’ll be fine,” Castiel said.

\- - -

It was late in the afternoon when Castiel finished the paperwork that removed him from the employment of the church. The board hadn’t inquired any further. They still had a church and the children’s homes to run. They wouldn’t have to lie if they didn’t know why he resigned.

Castiel walked out of the church.

He shivered in the cold. The sun had gone down. He wasn’t sure Dean would be waiting for him. The car park was deserted. He had no guarantee that Dean would want him back, would wait for him. He had no guarantee and he had no right ask for one.

A car horn tooted at him from across the street.

There was a sleek black car there, idling by the sidewalk.

There was a man leaning against the side of the car.

The Impala was waiting in the parking lot, and Dean was leaning against the side of the car.

“I was freezing my ass off waiting for you,” Dean said with a grin. His crow’s feet were pronounced and Castiel loved every one of it. “You took your time.”

“Yes.” Castiel kissed him on the mouth. He didn’t care who might drive by and see them, as long as he got to keep holding Dean like this. It’d been a long time coming, years. “But I’m here now.”


End file.
